Strength (Curse of the Gods #4)(66)
It was the Trickery sol: her purple hair almost seeming to stand on end in agitation.
“We aren’t learning anything,” she spat, the others fanning out behind her. “This is bullsen shit. You five are supposed to be helping us become better, but you’re too busy babysitting this dweller slut—”
My hand was suddenly before my face, my palm facing out, and power was surging down my arm. Maybe it was the stress over my mother, or the possibility that Staviti might have followed us out of Topia—that he might have allowed us to take the chains into Minatsol only to sneak after us and steal them back. Or maybe I just didn’t like being called a ‘dweller slut’. Whatever the reason, my power was suddenly exploding into the world, and it was too late for me to stop it. The Trickery sol was bent over, her hands covering her face, a scream floating back to where I stood.
I rushed over to her, guilt flooding into me and snapping my energy back into my body with a heavy pull that had my head spinning. My legs were shaking as I bent beside her, my hand on her shoulder. She flinched away from me, and the Seduction and Strength sols crouched beside her, drawing her back from me.
“I’m sorry.” I tried to get close again, but the Trickery sol kicked out at me.
“Stay the fuck away from me!” she shouted, though her voice was strangely muffled.
“I don’t even know what I did,” I pleaded, searching her body for scorch marks, or any sign of fire damage.
She lowered her hands from her face, revealing two bloodshot eyes and a ...
“Well … I did not expect that.” Siret was behind me, his voice somewhat amused.
“You ... oh.” That had come from Rome, also sounding amused and a little horrified.
I swallowed, torn between an absurd urge to laugh, and an even stronger urge to cry. A strangely manic emotion was trickling through me—possibly a result of the sudden rush of power and adrenaline, but just as likely a result of the absurd vision before me.
Dickhead.
I had been thinking it just a micro-click before I lashed out at the girl, along with a range of other insulting curses. I had been thinking it, and then ... I had manifested it.
There she stood: purple-haired, red-eyed, with a penis protruding from her forehead. A real, live penis.
“How do you know it’s alive?” Siret was really enjoying this moment. I could already tell I’d improved his sun-cycle immensely with my ability to make a literal dickhead.
“I don’t know!” I exclaimed. I was squinting at it, trying to see if I recognised it.
I was hoping that it didn’t look like it belonged to any of my guys. It was too small to be Rome’s, and it wasn’t anywhere near as nice-looking as Siret’s or Yael’s.
“Nice looking?” Yael choked out.
“You mean you ... you ... manifested a cock, and it isn’t even one of ours?” Coen’s tone was hard, almost pissed-off.
“WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?” the Trickery sol screamed, her hands darting up towards the thing dangling from her face.
Every single one of us flinched.
“Oh gods.” The Strength sol had her hand over her mouth. She looked a little sick. “Please stop touching it.”
“Why?” The Trickery sol was growing pale, her eyes widening in panic. “Is it doing something?”
“It’s not doing anything,” I assured her, even though I was actually avoiding looking directly at it. “But still probably don’t touch it. You might get pregnant ... and I think that would make me the father of your baby.”
The sol began to wail, then. Long, loud, and mournful.
“Ahhh.” I broke away from the guys, kneeling in front of her again. “Please stop, just let me try to fix it, okay? I’m sure I can.”
“Really?” Rome asked from behind me, sounding doubtful.
“Shh!” I shot him a look over my shoulder, before re-focussing on the sobbing girl. “I’m sorry, okay? I wasn’t aware that this was something I could do. I mean, they don’t exactly teach you about penis-manifestation in the dweller schools. It’s more about cleaning and bowing and scrubbing pans. Will you let me fix it?”
“FIX IT!” she screamed in response, her hands balling up into fists.
“Alright, jeez. Calm down, it’s just a penis. We all have them.”
“You do?” the Seduction sol asked, her eyebrows shooting up.
“Well yeah,” I waved a hand behind me. “I have theirs. So technically I have five of them. But that’s not really important. Can you please take her arms so that she doesn’t punch me?”
The Seduction and Strength sols obeyed, and I suspected it was mostly because they also didn’t want to suddenly gain dangly bits from their faces. I held my hand out again, palm facing outward, my eyes closed.
Neuter, I thought, my face scrunching up in concentration. Neuter her face.
Behind me, there was a crash, and I opened my eyes in shock, my gaze whipping back to Siret and Aros, who were leaning on each other, their hands over their mouths, trying to stifle the laughter that had begun to shake their entire bodies. I scowled, glancing over at Rome, who had fallen onto one of the couches, laughing. The thing seemed to have cracked apart beneath him.
“So immature,” I muttered, rolling my eyes and then turning back to refocus.